


Epiphany

by pasiphile



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/F, Femdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1287091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasiphile/pseuds/pasiphile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for prompt: "Fem!Aziraphale/Fem!Crowley, Crowley being all cynical until Azi does something and she is ridiculously into it but is in denial. If you could bondage/being blindfolded/dirty talk that would be super and if there was hands around necks that good"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Epiphany

“All I’m saying,” Crowley said, waving her cigarette, “is that you don’t  _need_ infernal or divine interference when it comes to politics. They’re perfectly good at messing things up on their own.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Your feet are on my pillow.”

“So?” Crowley shrugged, one bony shoulder briefly rising from her wide-necked shirt. “You don’t sleep, why would you mind if my feet  _contaminated_ your pillow?”

Aziraphale blinked at Crowley’s feet. Snakeskin, but those were… were shoes, right? She poked them. “Those look uncomfortable.”

Crowley curled her nose up. “They’re alright, really, compared to some others I’ve had.”

“Hmm.” On impulse she put her glass of wine and cigarette aside and pulled Crowley’s shoes off. Crowley wriggled her nylon-covered toes with a happy little sigh.

“That’s better, thanks.”

Aziraphale pulled the other shoe of as well and threw them both off the bed. She stared at Crowley’s feet. They were nice feet, as far as feet went. Slim. High instep. Straight toes.

Nice ankles, too. Soft.

“Er, Aziraphale…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you fondling my feet?”

She paused her hand, and gave Crowley a slightly sheepish smile. “I seem to be, yes. Do you mind?”

Crowley smirked and wriggled her toes again. “Emphatically not.”

“Good.” She reached back for her cigarette, left hand still playing with Crowley’s toes. “Anyway. Politics?”

“Yes. I reckon I can just ignore my orders and let the humans do the work. Have you heard about the tuition thing?”

“Hmm. That wasn’t your side?”

“Nope. All them.”

“Oh well.” She got up onto her knees and stroked higher, following the hard bone of Crowley’s shin.

Crowley gave her a look from beneath her sunglasses. “Angel? What are you doing?”

“I’m, as the youngsters call it,  _making my move_.”

“Are you, now?” Crowley licked her lips. Disguising her nervousness underneath a mask of suavity, the way she always did. It seemed silly that even after all this time together Crowley got nervous about something as simple as  _sex_ , but there it was.

Aziraphale crawled a little higher and kissed Crowley’s bare collarbone. Crowley tipped her head back, smiling. “Tired of talking politics, are you?”

“Quite.” She moved upwards, kissing Crowley’s neck. “Thoroughly tired of it. Ready to move onto other things.”

“Fair enough,” Crowley agreed. She hooked her hand around Aziraphale’s neck and pulled her into a slow, slightly sloppy kiss.

Aziraphale pulled away and grinned at Crowley. “So I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Yes to sex? Always, angel.”

Aziraphale didn’t roll her eyes, entirely by virtue of her angelic patience, but she did take Crowley’s shoulder and pulled her around.

Only it went a bit… wrong. Crowley somehow lost her balance and landed face-down on her pillow, half-pinned underneath Aziraphale’s weight.

“Whoops,” Aziraphale said, scrambling back up. “You alright, dear?”

No reply. No movement, either. Aziraphale gave Crowley’s prone form a worried frown. “Crowley? Are you…”

“Yes.”

That had sounded a little higher than usual. Crowley levered herself up onto her elbows. Her sunglasses had been knocked off, and her eyes were very dark, her usually slitted pupils wide and human-looking.

“Um, Crowley? Something wrong?”

“No.” In that same high-pitched voice.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. Not fear, or anger. In fact, she’d say that Crowley looked a bit… excited. But why didn’t she just say so? Why did she want to hide it?

Aziraphale looked down at the bed. They’d been going along just fine until she had accidentally squashed Crowley to the –

Oh.

Aziraphale’s penny dropped with a clunk. She’d been living for years in  _Soho_ , after all, she wasn’t naïve when it came to sex and all the creative things people did with it. She’d never really considered doing something like that with Crowley, but, well, the idea wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“Do you like being held down?” Aziraphale asked, interestedly.

“What?” Crowley squeaked. “Of course not, don’t be absurd, why are you asking  _that_?”

“Okay, then was it not being able to see?”

Crowley’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She coughed and got out of bed, grumbling. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, angel, with all your  _sudden questions_.” And she started pacing, hands twitching behind her back.

Aziraphale caught and held a sigh. Weren’t demons supposed to be lewd and lecherous? But then again, Crowley had always been an unusual case.

Aziraphale considered the situation. Crowley had been lying about not liking being held down, and  _definitely_ about not being able to see; she’d known the demon long enough to know when she was hiding the truth.

So, what to do… Crowley would stick to her denial, of course. Best way was to tackle this heads-on.

“So you’d like it if I fucked you while you’re wearing a blindfold?” Aziraphale asked, innocently.

Crowley tripped over her own feet and landed on the floor. “Erk,” she said, sounding strangled.

Aziraphale fought to keep her face straight.

Crowley cleared her throat and tried again. “You can’t just spring things like that on me unexpected, angel,” she said reproachfully.

“You were in my bed, only wearing half your clothes, and I was stroking your leg. Hardly unexpected, I should think. Anyway, I still haven’t got an answer.”

“No.” Crowley sat back up and rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s… I don’t know. Maybe. I really don’t want to talk about this, Aziraphale.”

“Yes, but do you want to do it?”

Crowley glared at her.

“Right. Get back here, you.”

Crowley got back to her feet and trudged over, still sulking. Aziraphale reached over to her bedside table and took her scarf. “Turn,” she said to Crowley, twirling her finger.

The demon sat down in front of her, back turned. Still ostensibly annoyed, but Aziraphale could feel the tension come off her in waves.

She tied the scarf around Crowley’s head, careful to avoid trapping any of her thick dark hair in the knot.

“There. Hold on a bit.” Aziraphale got off the bed and rifled through her wardrobe, pulling out another two thin silk scarves. There, those would do.

Crowley was fidgeting, but she hadn’t pulled off the blindfold – all the confirmation she needed, really.

“There we are,” Aziraphale said cheerfully. She straddled Crowley’s lap and took her wrist. “So, you can probably curse these away with a thought, but still, if you want them off, let me know.”

“Let what off?” Crowley asked, suspiciously.

“These.” Aziraphale looped the silk scarf around Crowley’s wrist and tied it to the bedpost.

Crowley went stiff as a board.

“Aziraphale…” she said.

“Yes?”

“I’m…” She swallowed. “You don’t have to…”

Aziraphale pulled Crowley’s other wrist to the bedpost and tied it down as well. “Don’t be absurd, it’s very much my pleasure. You should have said something earlier, my dear.”

Crowley’s mouth went thin. Was she, even now, still pretending she wasn’t into this? Silly girl.

Aziraphale took Crowley’s chin and kissed her. “There,” she said, cheerfully. “All done. You look very pretty like this, you know.”

Crowley snorted. “Yeah, right, pull the other one.”

Aziraphale rolled her eyes and moved down a bit. She put both hands on Crowley’s breasts and squeezed, gently.

Crowley hissed in a breath. “Aziraphale – ” she started.

“Yes, my dear?”

“N- nothing.”

Aziraphale gently rolled the little buds of Crowley’s nipples between her thumb and forefinger. Crowley hissed again, her arms pulling against the restraints.

It was Crowley’s reactions that made this whole thing so nice to do. The demon might not talk about sex easily, but once they were actually  _doing_  it she felt little shame in showing how much it affected her. Crowley writhed, moaned, screamed, groaned, all shamelessly.

Aziraphale lowered her mouth over Crowley’s nipple and sucked, gently. Crowley arched her back, teeth buried in her bottom lip. Beautiful, she did look beautiful, and it gave Aziraphale a happy little glow every time she saw it.

She walked her fingers down Crowley’s stomach, smiling at each little twitch and shiver, until she had reached the sensitive inside of her thighs. She let go of Crowley’s nipple and tilted her head. “Everything still alright there, my dear?”

“Mmf?”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then, shall I?”

“Nggh _yes_.”

“Good.”

 She went back to suckling on Crowley’s breast, fingers gently brushing the crease of Crowley’s thigh. She was already wet and slick – strange, how these bodies worked. How it all worked together.

She pushed two fingers inside. Crowley groaned and tilted her hips up, as if welcoming her in. “Aziraphale,  _fuck¸_ you – ”

Aziraphale nipped at Crowley’s nipple and she promptly shut up again, shaking.

The first time they’d done this, Aziraphale had been nervous, scared of doing something wrong. It had all been so  _complicated_ , so  _dangerous_. And Crowley had been much the same, possibly even worse.

Now, though, now Aziraphale knew Crowley’s body as well as she knew the backroom of her bookshop. How to suck  _there_  and push her fingers up like  _this_  and gently stroke  _there_ …

Crowley moaned. “Angel,  _please_ , can you…”

Aziraphale sat back up again. Cocked her head. Crowley looked a little desperate, wanting. “You want something else, don’t you?” she asked slowly.

No reply, which meant  _yes_ , of course.

“Alright, so… Earlier. You were on your stomach. Was that it, do you want to be face down?”

A shake of the head.

“Hm. But it was something about that?”

A nod.

“Alright, so… You couldn’t see, but we’ve got that covered. You couldn’t move either, but that’s here too, so… Oh, face down in the pillow, of  _course_. Is it breathing?”

A very terse, miniscule nod.

Aziraphale sat back and considered. She didn’t want to hurt Crowley, and despite Crowley’s newly-discovered sexual deviations she doubted Crowley really wanted that either. But breathing, well, they could do something about that, couldn’t they?

Aziraphale settled back next to Crowley. She trailed her right hand down again, pressing the heel of her hand against Crowley’s cunt and rubbing slowly. Crowley’s breath hitched.

And with her other hand she gently held Crowley’s throat.

Crowley went stiff again, fingers curled into white-knuckled fists, breathing rapid and shallow. Aziraphale angled her right hand, pushed two fingers back inside of Crowley and gently nudged her clit with her thumb.

“ _Nggh,_ ” Crowley managed, trembling. “ _Please_ , Aziraphale – ”

She very carefully tightened her hand around Crowley’s throat. Not enough to really cut off her air supply, just enough pressure to make Crowley really  _feel_ it.

At least, she hoped. If she somehow did manage to choke Crowley to death, she'd never hear the end of it. Nor did she want to make Crowley face the awkward questions such a death would no doubt give rise to.

But it seemed to be working. Crowley writhed, snake-like, the restraints digging into her wrists. Her hips were rocking along with the movement of Aziraphale’s fingers. She was clenching down convulsively, very close to orgasm.

She’d  _never_ seen Crowley this wanton, this desperate, this  _gorgeous_. Aziraphale’s throat went dry. She almost forgot to move.

Only almost. Suddenly Crowley arched her back high off the mattress, making a keening sound – Aziraphale had to loosen her grip a little not to strangle her – and she struggled, as if she was fighting.

And then she collapsed back on the mattress. Aziraphale let go of her neck and paused the movement of her fingers. “Deep breaths, dear…”

Crowley nodded. No words.

Aziraphale gently pulled her hand back and untied Crowley’s wrists, and then the blindfold. Crowley’s eyes focused slowly on her.

“Everything alright, dear girl?” Aziraphale asked, just a wee bit worried.

Crowley nodded. “Yeah,” she said, hoarsely. “It’s…. wow. Whooeee.” She laughed, shakily, and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Thank you,” she added, eyes closed.

“More than welcome, my dear. But, Crowley…”

“Yes?” The demon opened one eye and gave her a suspicious look.

“Do  _tell_ me these things next time, will you?”

Crowley nodded, her lips thin. “Fine. Same goes for you, you know.”

“Mmhm. Well, speaking of…”

Crowley opened her eyes again. Her troubled look slowly faded into a lecherous grin. “Dear me,” she said, lazily, back to her old suave self, “I’ve been  _impolite_ , haven’t I? Letting you do all the work.”

“However will you make it up to me?” Aziraphale asked drily.

Crowley grinned.

And she pounced.


End file.
